by Lexi C. Foss
She bit her lip, her gaze uneasy as he lifted the lid to reveal a pair of black swim jammers, the brand a popular swimming company in the States. Beside it were a pair of goggles and a new cap, all seated atop a plush towel.
“I noticed you hadn’t been swimming as much in Hydria and thought you might need some supplies.” She sounded so nervous he couldn’t help but give her a side hug.
“I love it, Aya.” Even the size was right. She’d clearly done some research.
Her eyes lit up with pride. “Jacque helped me figure out what brand you preferred. I had no idea there were so many styles of swimming trunks on the market.”
“You selected correctly.” He kissed her cheek. “Thank you, love.”
He tucked the items back into the box and started unwrapping the second present while she observed nervously. The woman faced Osiris without batting an eye, but watching Issac open gifts escalated her heartbeat. Fascinating.
That pull to bite her still lingered, but far more tame. Which confirmed his suspicion that it wasn’t Aya at all that tempted him. Another topic to discuss with Aidan because Issac rarely felt this way around Hydraians. His logic always overrode his drive in the past. Why should this be any different?
Because I haven’t fed in nearly two months.
He ignored the thought and finished revealing the picture frame. Aya stood smiling in a sapphire silk gown, her cheeks flushed alluringly. He grinned beside her, his arm around her lower back.
“This is from The Pierre.” He recognized the stairs behind them, as well as her dress. “From the CRF gala.”
“Technically, our first date,” she said, her cheeks pink. “Right after you delivered that cheesy line.”
His eyes narrowed. “I believe I proved quite thoroughly that I don’t require such frivolities.”
Her lips curled. “You did, and then they took that photo of you actually smiling. I thought it should be framed in memory as the one time that billionaire playboy Issac Wakefield actually smiled in a photograph.”
Yes, she’d mentioned his lack of amusement in tabloid photos, as well as his playboy-handbook biography. That conversation still made him laugh. Astasiya was refreshingly honest.
“How did you acquire this?” he wondered, noting the high quality of the photograph.
“Uh…” She pinched her lips to the side. “Yeah, I may have agreed to an interview in exchange for the printing rights to that photo.”
His eyebrows shot up. “An interview? With a tabloid?”
Her nose scrunched up adorably. “Just a few questions.”
Oh, now he needed all the details. “Where can I read this brilliant literature?”
She huffed out a breath and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. It was one Jayson had given her that couldn’t be tracked. A few clicks later and an article titled “Wakefield’s Latest Conquest Speaks Out” appeared on the screen.
He snorted. “This should be an enlightening read.” He skimmed the words, his lips twitching at Astasiya’s clear sarcasm. “A demon in the bedroom, hmm?”
“Try denying it,” she deadpanned.
“Absolutely not.” He was quite satisfied with that description and the mention of his pet name. There were several questions about his dating preferences where Astasiya noted his penchant for control, specifically in terms of wardrobe for events. “You’re the only woman in my existence who criticizes my extravagant gifts.”
“Thousand-dollar dresses that I’ll never wear again is wasteful.”
He flashed her a devious glance. “Those gowns were worth more than a few thousand dollars, darling.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I should have told her you enjoy throwing money away for no reason.”
“I consider dressing you an investment.”
She scoffed. “In what?”
“My personal pleasure,” he replied, his lips quirking. “A very worthwhile investment, if you ask me.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”
“When it comes to you, yes.” He kissed her temple and handed back the phone. “I can’t believe you subjected yourself to that filth.”
“It was the only way she’d let me have the photo.” She gave him an apologetic look. “I tried not to divulge anything of actual interest. You’re not mad, right?”
He laughed. “I think you were punished enough by having to answer all those ridiculous questions.” The interviewer had even asked Astasiya for tips on how to land a billionaire. Demand a date, had been her cheeky response.
He kissed her softly on the lips, entertained immensely by both the photo and what she went through to obtain it.
“Thank you for the gift. I’m putting this in our bedroom.” And he’d be framing quotes from the article to go with it. “Now time for your gifts.”
“A dress?” she joked.
He nipped her earlobe in reprimand and slid out of the bed to find her gifts. They were hidden in the closet as well.
She eyed the items with interest when he returned.
A small box.
A flat one.
And a carefully wrapped rectangle that he handed her first.
She eyed it curiously. “This is heavy.”
“Yes. And fragile, too.”
Her lips curled down, her fingers carefully moving over the paper to expose the contents within. “Vita mutatur, non tollitur,” she read, tracing the inscription on the cover.
“Life is changed, not taken away,” he translated. “I kept a journal for many years after Aidan turned me, and I thought you might want to have a piece of my past as you live through your present.”
Her green eyes lifted, wonder turning her irises a luscious green. “You documented your first years as an immortal?”
“My first decades, yes.” Men were often required to conceal strong emotions. He hid his in the form of a journal. “No one knows this exists except me, and now you.”
He drew his finger along the old binding, the item one he hadn’t touched in nearly two centuries until he wrapped it for her last week.
“There will be passages you may dislike,” he warned. “But I never want to hide from you, Aya. And I want you to know that you can come to me with anything. No matter what happens, I’m here for you.”
Tears gathered in her eyes as she held the notebook to her chest. “This is a beautiful gift, Issac.”
He smiled. “Just do me a favor and try to remember I wrote those words many years before you existed.”
“The scandalous adventures of Issac Wakefield.” Amusement shone through the dampness in her gaze. “I can’t wait to start reading.”
“Open the others,” he encouraged, wanting to see her reaction. It would change drastically, and he couldn’t wait to begin the debates. His Aya despised extravagance, but he’d gifted these items with a practical twist he hoped she would appreciate.
She carefully set the journal aside before picking up the smallest box.
“This better not be a ring,” she muttered as she revealed the familiar jewelry encasing beneath the paper.
He laughed. “Wouldn’t that be a thrill for your mum?”
“Not after I killed you,” she replied sweetly, her nimble fingers carefully lifting the lid to reveal the necklace inside. The heart-shaped blue diamond glittered in the light, the white gold chain offsetting the color beautifully.
“It’s gorgeous, and way too much, Issac. I bought you a swimsuit and you bought me a, a”—she waved her hand—“whatever that gem is. Aquamarine?”
He chuckled, loving that she knew nothing about jewelry. “The stone doesn’t matter. It’s the secret hidden inside that does. Here, let me show you. See this?” He pointed to the metal rung at the base of the heart. “It moves, but only with your thumbprint. Try it.”
She frowned at him. “What does it do when it moves?”
“Trust me and try it.” He retrieved his mobile while she tinkered with the necklace. It buzzed the second she figured out the switch.
/> “Okay,” she said, staring doubtfully at the slightly crooked diamond. “Is that supposed to be exciting?”
Issac showed her the display on his screen.
Her eyebrows flew upward. “It’s a tracking device? Are you fucking kidding me?”
He laughed outright, adoring her reaction.
“It’s not funny. This is like stalker technology.”
That only made him laugh harder. He wrapped his arm around her when she made to move, and held her to him. “It’s a tracker that’s only activated by you when you want to be found, Aya. Current technology can’t sense the device because it’s idle until your thumbprint activates it. And if you ever do, I will receive an alert, as will Mateo.”
“So it’s a fancy stalker device,” she deadpanned.
“That might one day save your life.” He tucked a blonde strand behind her ear. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, love. It’s your choice. I just wanted you to have something to rely on if you’re ever in a situation where you need help. It’s something that could have saved Elizabeth sooner when Osiris took her.”
Issac added that last bit to drive home the reminder that the infamous Ichorian had set his sights on a new target—Astasiya. And his current whereabouts were unknown since the manor was destroyed during Elizabeth’s rescue.
“It’s exactly the kind of gift a man in my position is supposed to give his lover,” he continued, his voice softening. “No one would ever suspect the alternative use.”
Aya eyed the necklace, then him, and then the necklace again. “A practical gift disguised as extravagance.”
“Exactly.”
“That cost a small fortune.”
He shrugged. “If I gave you anything cheaper, it would be obvious.” Not exactly true. He could have given her a sapphire, but that felt beneath her. “You’re my heart, Aya. Now you can wear it for all to see.”
“I thought you were better than cheesy lines,” she replied, her eyes twinkling again. Which had been his goal with the word choice.
“Just giving you the backstory for when anyone asks. May I?” he asked, gesturing to the necklace.
“Only if you show me how to turn off the tracker first.”
“By straightening the stone,” he murmured. “Which is brilliant because it means you can activate it to send a distress signal, then deactivate it before anyone can scan you again.”
Mateo’s technological abilities continued to floor Issac at every turn. This product was no different and one of the best items to date.
Aya righted the heart and looked at his screen for verification that it fixed the signal. “And only I can activate it?”
“Yes. Mateo wanted to put in a backdoor protocol, but I refused the enhancement.” Issac knew she’d refuse to wear it if anyone else could switch on the tracking technology. “That’s not to say Mateo couldn’t finagle something in an emergent situation, but nothing exists today. It’s a normal necklace until you make it otherwise.”
She considered and slowly handed him the box. “All right, but only because it’s practical.” She pulled her hair away from her neck, her invitation clear.
Issac removed the chain from the box and secured it around her neck before drawing a finger down her exposed spine. She turned to face him, the heart nestled above her breasts. Right where it belonged. “Mmm, I sincerely approve of you wearing only my gift, darling. Perhaps you can model it again for me later.”
Aya’s gaze heated with promise. “I’ll consider it.”
“Do.” He nudged the final gift to her. “But open this first.”
“Should I be scared?” she asked as she unwrapped the final package.
“Just keep an open mind.”
“Famous last words,” she grumbled. “I gave you a photo and swim gear.”
“Two gifts I adore.” He kissed her shoulder. “It’s the thought that counts.”
“That’s about the same as the ‘size doesn’t really matter’ myth.”
He chuckled. “Stop stalling and open the envelope.” It’d been idle in her hands for a long moment, her mouth trying to distract them both from the task.
She upended the contents onto the bed, making him glad he’d used paper clips to keep things separated.
The passport caught her eye first. “Aya Davenfield,” she read, her lips twitching. “Clever.”
“Every immortal needs a new identity,” he explained. “Mateo helped me build yours.”
She picked up the driver’s license next, and then the assortment of bank cards. “Did you reroute my old accounts?”
“Not exactly,” he murmured.
The statements were next, followed by an array of legal documents that had her eyes widening by the second. “You didn’t… Oh, you didn’t.” She kept scanning and repeating those words, her head swaying back and forth. “Issac, this is—”
“Necessary,” he completed for her. “You’re going to live forever, Aya. That means investing now in preparation for the future. And as you have no assets, I’m lending you some of mine to begin the process.”
“Lending,” she repeated. “That’s a lot, to, uh, lend to someone.”
Amusement touched his chest. She truly had no idea how much he’d acquired through the centuries. This was just a small piece of his investments. “It’s enough to start you down the right path and teach you the financial market.”
“And the deed to this house?” she asked, raising a brow.
“I needed a name to put it in, and yours seemed appropriate.” He maintained several aliases, and Aya Davenfield would be the newest player in the game. He may eventually create an Issac Davenfield as well.
Investments were one of Issac’s favorite pastimes, as was company acquisition. Wakefield Pharmaceuticals was only one entity of several that he owned.
“Aidan taught me quite a bit about how the markets work, how to spot trends, and where to invest. If you’re willing, I would like to teach you as well. And we can use the alias I’ve created—Aya Davenfield—as the principal account.”
She stared at him. “You want to make me a billionaire.”
“No, I want to show you how to survive for eternity,” he corrected. “Money isn’t everything, Aya. You’ll eventually crave a hobby or a career, and I want to show you how to accomplish that as an immortal.”
“I… I don’t know what to say.” She took in all the documents again—the passport, the deed to the house, and the bank statements showing the amounts waiting for her chosen investments. “This is overwhelming.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “I felt the same when I took over my father’s estate, and again when Aidan began training me. But it is worthwhile, love. Trust me.”
“I do,” she whispered. “Very much. I just don’t know how to accept… this.” She gestured at the papers.
“They’re just numbers, darling. And as I said, it’s a loan. You can pay me back when you’re ready.” Not that he necessarily wanted her to. It was Aya’s independent instincts that required it, and he respected that. “The real gift here is that I’m offering to show you how it’s done so you can do it yourself.” Something he knew she would respect and desire.
And the look she granted him after hearing his words confirmed it. “I would like to learn.”
“I thought you might.” He cupped her cheek. “We can begin when you’re ready, but everything is in place. And this home is yours to be used however you desire, whether it be to host an annual Christmas, or to rent, or even to sell.”
“My parents will lose their ever-loving shit if I tell them you bought me this house.”
Humor caressed his heart. “Yes, I imagine they would. We don’t have to tell them.”
“Good.”
“You can claim I rented the same property for next year if you want a repeat performance. They don’t need to know.”
“Okay,” she agreed softly, her arms winding around his neck. “I’m not ready to join the others yet.”
�
�We will have to soon,” he murmured against her hair.
“I know. Just a few more minutes alone?”
“All right.” He pulled her onto his lap, his arms circling her as she laid her head against his chest. “Merry Christmas, Aya.”
“Merry Christmas, Issac.”
14
Stas
The joyous atmosphere in the main area was almost too much to bear. It physically hurt to smile, but Stas managed it for her parents. For the Hydraians. For her friends. For Issac.
He knew, though. She could see the same pain lurking in his blue eyes. This trip had proven their relationship to be an impossibility. They would try because they had to, because there was no other choice for them, but this would eventually have to end.
Just not yet.
Tristan was right—she was a selfish bitch. She couldn’t push Issac away even though she should. He’d come too close to biting her earlier, all because she craved it.
The way they used to be. The heat, the intensity, the passion.
It felt as if only a quarter of their previous chemistry existed now because of all the safety wheels they’d applied to their relationship. Issac couldn’t even go down on her.
She didn’t necessarily require the physical connection; it just wasn’t the same. They were essentially walking around with this wall between them, too afraid to cross it. And whenever they came close, something reminded them of why they couldn’t.
Issac squeezed her hand, his sapphire irises capturing hers for a long moment. He knew. “Not yet,” he whispered.
She nodded, agreeing. “Not yet.”
“You bought me my own Smith & Wesson?” Amelia squealed with delight, throwing her arms around Tom’s neck, causing Issac to tense beside Stas.
“Yeah, and a holster so you can stop hiding mine in your pants.” The taunt in Tom’s voice earned him a slap against the arm.
“Arse,” Amelia accused.
“Asset,” he returned, his dark eyes grinning while everyone gaped at them.
“You bought my sister a gun for Christmas?” Issac sounded appalled, his tone matching Luc’s expression. Aidan merely appeared amused.
“It’s what she wanted.” Tom winked at her. “Right, sweetheart?”